


Wear Your Finest Hour

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Cute, Dresses, F/F, Femslash, Inspired by Art, Prom, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose and Jade go dress-shopping for prom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wear Your Finest Hour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [casetrippy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casetrippy/gifts).



> This fic is heavily based on [one of casetrippy's lovely Jade/Rose pictures](http://casetrippy.tumblr.com/post/109452327647/enbyruf-what-a-power-couple-roses-dress-is), which I have included at the bottom of the page. Please follow the link and like the art on Tumblr!

"I still say the entire concept is ridiculous," you pronounce as you follow Jade down the basement steps of the local consignment shop to where the formal clothes are stored under special lock and key. "We'd have more fun if we get an early start on skip day. If we hit the road right after school, we'd still have a couple hours of light down in Ocean Grove on Thursday night and we won't have to face Friday traffic on the Parkway. Plus we'd get a night _to ourselves_ instead of having to deal with a good third of the school acting like idiots to a soundtrack of questionable quality."

"Oh please, you know you live to make fun of idiots -- especially if they're our friends," Jade says over her shoulder as she unlocks the door. "Prom is an integral part of the American teenage experience. You've skipped every single dance since junior high and I am not passing up my last chance to see you in a fancy dress making everyone else jealous that you're dating me instead of them. Plus, dancing!"

She wiggles her butt at you by way of illustration.

You set your hands on your girlfriend's hips, tug her close and trace her hipbones through the waistband of her denim skirt. "We could dance on the beach," you say.

Jade wrinkles her nose, which somehow manages to look criminally adorable rather than silly. (You suspect you may be biased.)

"Not in these clothes, we couldn't," she says. "Anyway, who says we have to wait for Friday morning to escape? We could just forget to go home after the dance -- it's not like your mom would notice one way or the other, and I could get permission if I promise to bring my rifle along. Think of a hotel room _to ourselves_ , but where we get to unwrap each other like presents! And you get to choose your own wrapping paper!"

She flings her hand out with a flourish as she steps out of your grip and shoves open the door, revealing rack upon rack of secondhand dresses in every conceivable color and style (plus one lonely spinner of men's suits). In the far corner, a pair of folding screens and a pastel blue bath curtain make a tiny, makeshift dressing room. Presumably there's at least one mirror behind the curtain since all the remaining wall space is taken up by clothes.

You sweep your eyes over the racks, brows climbing halfway to your hairline as you turn. "You do realize that ninety percent of these are hideous."

"The percentages at department stores and boutiques aren't any better," Jade responds. "Besides, the less you spend on the dress itself, the more money you'll have left to get it tailored. And think of your mom's expression when she realizes you already have your dress in hand and she can't splurge on buying you some custom-made designer thing."

You can all too easily imagine your mother doing just that. In fact, that might explain some of the phone calls she's been making with ridiculously over-dramatic attempts at secret agent stealth. She'll pout for days if you preempt her, but with luck you'll be able to divert her efforts into hiring a limo and buying a full bar's worth of alcohol for you and Jade to promptly empty down the sink and recycle the bottles, because the last thing you need is to get arrested for underage drinking.

"Point," you say with a carefully visible wince and grimace. "All right, let the torture begin."

Jade pounces eagerly upon the closest rack and shuffles through hangers with tremendous clatter until she finds the size sixteen and up section. Almost all the dresses in question are far too long for you to wear without alteration -- some days you rue being five foot nothing more than others -- but you can at least try them on to see if the shoulders, hips, and bust come anywhere close to fitting correctly.

"What about this?" Jade asks, holding up a bubblegum pink dress with a boob window and the frilliest skirt you've seen since you mercifully escaped your last ballet lesson eight years ago. It is exactly the sort of thing your mother would love. You think you do a good job controlling your face, but Jade bursts into laughter nonetheless. "I'm kidding," she says, "but if you don't come over here and start expressing an opinion, I might not be joking about the next one."

"Do I get to reciprocate?" you ask as you frown at an oddly creased satin dress in a particularly unfortunate shade of chartreuse.

"Nope! Because I'm going to wear one of my grandma's saris," Jade says as she pushes dresses back and forth along the rack. "Grandpa and I went exploring in the attic last month because he wanted to show me some of the telex machines he helped develop, and we found a chest full of her stuff from back in the fifties. It's probably incredibly out of style in India, but nobody at school will know that and the fabric is _so pretty_ , oh my gosh, you have no idea. It's like, um--" She waves her hands as if groping for words and sets the hangers swaying when she brushes against the dresses. "Like the night sky and fireworks and the glow of the city on the horizon, with a green and gold border that matches my nice heels. I'm going to wear some of her earrings, too, and maybe even use a jewel instead of makeup for my bindi."

Fireworks, jewels, the green of new life, the fast-paced lure of the city beyond the circumscribed boundaries of your life, and the star-strewn vastness of the night sky: it's hard to think of a better symbolic representation of your feelings for Jade. You're still not sure you care about the dance, but suddenly you can't wait to see her in that outfit.

"We should find something for me that matches," you say. "Dark purple, maybe. Midnight blue. Black with sequins."

Jade looks at you pensively, bottom lip held between her teeth as she considers. "No," she says eventually. "Darkness doesn't suit you, not really. It's a shield and underneath you're more like sunlight. If I wear midnight, you should wear dawn."

You feel like you should protest this blatantly misguided interpretation of your personality -- dammit, you have put _hard work_ into your woegothic reputation -- but somehow you've lost all your breath. Jade has a way of doing that to you.

"Aha! See, this is what I mean!" she says, holding a dress up against herself for you to see. It's short and sleeveless, with a halter top and a sweetheart neckline, and dyed in all the colors of sunrise, shading in delicate gradations from white-gold on the straps to deep blue-violet at the hem. You're not quite sure whether to call it cute or pretty.

Either way, it's a lot more revealing than anything you've worn since you hit puberty.

"Jade," you say.

"Rose," she says back, and presses the fabric to your chest and hips. "I told you I want to see everyone else get jealous of me because I realized how amazing you are and had the guts to ask you out. Nobody's going to laugh or impugn your mastery of the darkest majyyks just because you're wearing pink and yellow for a change. They'll be too busy picking their jaws off the floor. Come on. For me?"

Refusing Jade's pleading puppy eyes is the next best thing to impossible. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the idea of showing people up for their stupid snap judgments while simultaneously making your girlfriend smile.

"Oh, all right," you say as you take the dress from her hands. "I'll try it on, and if it looks even half-decent, I'll get it altered to fit. But we are _definitely_ leaving the dance early and finishing up the night in private."

"I can live with that!" Jade says, and bends down to give you a kiss.

[ ](http://casetrippy.tumblr.com/post/109452327647/enbyruf-what-a-power-couple-roses-dress-is)

**Author's Note:**

> Casetrippy, if you'd prefer me to remove your picture and only use a link, just tell me and I'll change that right away!


End file.
